And There Will be Lies
by JezziBness
Summary: Bonnie is on her second year of college in New York. Mystic Falls is in her past now. After saving Elena in Alaska, she began a relationship with Damon—that ended abruptly. However, the separation can't last when danger has returned...
1. Chapter 1: Phone Call

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the show, book, series or the characters. The writing here in is for no profit and simply a fan work. Please continue to support the creators by watching the show and/or reading the literature. Thank you.

NOTE:

"And There Will be Lies" is a direct sequel to "And There Will Be Blood". While reading "And There Will Be Blood" is not required to enjoy the story, I'd recommend it to understand the development that happened between Bonnie and Damon.

Like all my writing, while it is based on TVD's tv show, it has my own original twists and character development that do not follow all the plot lines of the show. I did it this way to make the story flow better. Thanks for reading!

* * *

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned."

"Go ahead my son…"

"It is my first confession, Father. I don't really know how his whole thing is supposed to go."

"Are you Catholic my child?"

"No, but the idea that one can do whatever they want and then be absolved of it is something I find _fascinating_."

"That is not how it works exactly. Those who come here to confess are seeking penance in order to become absolved. Are you wanting penance?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Then continue with your confession."

"Well, I upset my girlfriend and she broke up with me."

"Go on…"

"You see father, my girlfriend—well _ex_-girlfriend now—is a witch. You know, a practitioner of the dark arts that you seem so _greatly_ opposed to. Anyway, she gets _squeamish_ around me because I have the tendency to attract trouble wherever I go, the deadly kind. So _what_ if I snack on a mime at the boardwalk while we're on a date? Or if I munch on that irritating bastard who was too loud when we were trying to watch a movie at the theatre? The world is better for people like that being gone."

"_Snack_ on them?"

"You know, gnaw, chomp, _kill_…call it whatever tickles your fancy."

"These are very grave sins…"

"We haven't even reached the worst part! I'd like to pay a special apology to _you_ father, because my girlfriend leaving me made me depressed and I wandered in here to pull my life together. I thought maybe if I could get some goodness inside me she'd take me back. What better way to gain goodness than to eat a priest?"

"Don't you come near me!"

"_What_? No hail Mary's for me, Father?

**AND THERE WILL BE LIES**

**Chapter 1: Phone Call**

"He's such a _liar_, Elena. I just couldn't keep dealing with every date of ours turning into a catastrophe!" Bonnie was complaining to Elena over her mobile phone.

Bonnie had started a new life in New York, one that no longer involved the dealings with Mystic Falls. She was finally on her second year of college; something she never expected to experience after the events that took place in Alaska. It seemed as if the worst was all behind her. However, she soon discovered that when it comes to the supernatural—and being a witch—you can never really escape calamity.

She never expected to fall in love with Damon, but she had. It was thrilling, exciting and terrifying. At first, it was amazing. He was the air she breathed, and she was his constant—his _muse_ even. He saw her in ways no one else could or ever would.

But there was one thing that was a losing battle…

Damon's nature was still just as unruly as ever. Bonnie could accept that Damon was a vampire; Bonnie could accept that Damon was simply untamable. There was only one thing Bonnie had difficulty with. Damon was a compulsive liar—a _beautiful_ liar, but still, a liar.

Bonnie paced her moonlit dorm room while wearing a pink tank top and green underwear with a mobile fixed tightly in hand. She was lucky enough to not have a roommate; she had made sure of that. Last thing she needed was to have another dimwitted girl Damon could manipulate and compel…

"If there was such thing as couples counseling for supernatural beings, I'd have opted to try that first," Bonnie noted as she bent in front of her small mini-fridge in the corner of the room. "Unfortunately, even Dr. Phil isn't equipped enough to handle a case as serious as mine."

"It's not easy dating a vampire, Bonnie. I think sometimes we expect them to act more human because they appear to be so—well—_human_. They have urges and thoughts and feelings we simply can't feel or understand," Elena's voice softly tried to reason with Bonnie.

Bonnie rolled her eyes while retrieving a cold raspberry soda can, "I'm not going back to him. I'm done with it; he and I are through. Do you realize we've forgiven Damon for things that would have been impossible for any _sane_ person to forgive?"

"I'm not trying to make excuses for me or pardon him from anything he's done. Damon isn't exactly on my _nice_ list either; I am speaking from my experiences with Stefan," Elena explained.

Bonnie sighed heavily, "Wake up and smell the coffee, Elena. _You_ are in a dysfunctional relationship too."

Quickly Bonnie winced upon realizing that she had voiced something best left to remain unsaid. It was too late to take it back; Elena's voice had gone silent.

Bonnie had to try and fix it, "Elena, god, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. It's just—I'm feeling emotional over the break-up and lately I've had the worst insomnia."

"Bonnie, I'm hanging up now. We can talk later," Elena's voice was curt and emotionless.

Bonnie winced. She knew Elena well enough to know when she was angry.

"Okay, goodnight, Elena."

"Goodnight, Bonnie…"

Elena hung up.

Bonnie slowly drew the phone away from her ear, turning her gaze to stare at the glowing empty screen. There was definitely something Bonnie could relate to Damon on; they both had the unfortunate ability to say things that pissed people off.

Great, now she didn't have a boyfriend or a best friend.

Bonnie tossed the mobile phone against the floor with disgust before throwing herself onto her bed. Damned insomnia. How hard could it really be to sleep? Sleeping is supposed to be the easiest thing in the world! She found herself gazing idly at the ceiling. She'd become far too acquainted with the ceiling. Ever since Bonnie had managed to get her powers back she'd developed difficulty sleeping at night.

The silence was deafening. Nighttime was a nightmare for an insomniac. Bonnie's mind traced through the various activities she usually resorted to in order to sleep. Showers helped her relax. Sometimes busying herself with studying for an exam definitely helped. Of course—sleeping with Damon had _always_ worked…

Bonnie grabbed at her head hard.

She was thinking of _him_ again! She needed to develop some form of self-control.

**BEEP. BEEP.**

Bonnie slowly began to turn in her bed, adjusting her position until she lay on her stomach. Was it just wishful thinking or had she just heard her phone? It was still alone, in the corner of the room, quietly alerting Bonnie that there was a text message waiting for her.

Did she want to check it?

What if it was Damon?

Bonnie carefully placed her feet onto the cool surface of her floor and slowly started nearing the phone. There was the fear of it being Damon, but then—there was also the fear of it _not_ being Damon. The privilege of guessing was sometimes better than the truth revealed.

**KNOCK. KNOCK.**

Bonnie practically jumped with fright at the sound. Someone was tapping at her door. Who could it be? It was after hours. Bonnie gave her phone a thoughtful glance; curiosity would have to wait—at least for now.

She approached her door cautiously. She'd learned to keep a baseball bat near her door. The bat actually had once belonged to her ex-boyfriend Matt Donovan. He'd given it to her when they both moved to New York and started dating. He warned her New York was a dangerous place and to keep it handy late at night.

Bonnie gripped the bat firmly in one hand, keeping it well hidden as she cracked open her door.

She could see a small, Asian female classmate standing just outside her door. She was shivering and clothed only in a long t-shirt. Bonnie had seen her around school, but didn't know much more about her than that. She was used to seeing the girl mostly stick around the other Korean students on campus.

Bonnie lowered the bat.

"Um, can I help you?" Bonnie asked without opening the door any wider than it already was. She still wasn't taking any chances.

"Bonnie?" The girl asked with trembling lips.

"Yes," Bonnie strained a smile, "You do realize it's like—one o'clock at night, right?"

The girl continued to shiver uncontrollably, she didn't even acknowledge Bonnie's words, "My name is Eun-Young and I have a message for you."

Bonnie didn't think it was that cold; something was definitely wrong, "Are you okay? Do I need to call someone for you?"

Eun-Young shook her head on impulse, "The message is: This runs deeper than what happened in Alaska."

Bonnie's eyes immediately widened. She quickly threw the door open to glare at Eun-Young, snapping her sights down either direction of the empty hallway.

"Did _Damon_ put you up to this?" Bonnie asked furiously.

Eun-Young lifted her hands to cover her ears, "No!"

Bonnie didn't believe it for a moment. She went as far as to lift her finger and point it towards the quivering girl, "You can tell Damon that I've had enough of his games and to leave me the hell alone!"

Bonnie slammed the door shut and locked it.

She couldn't believe the nerve of Damon, to use tactics like this. He was also involving innocent girls in the matter. At first she simply paced around her bed with frustration, but finally the anger was too much for her to contain.

Bonnie yanked up her phone from the floor, prepared to call Damon and give him a piece of her mind.

_1 Message._

She'd forgotten about the message. Somehow it seemed like a trivial thing now. She pressed the button to open the message. The number was an unknown. She debated even checking a message from a caller she didn't recognize. Slowly an image began to load on her screen, at first it was too dark at the top to make out the full image.

The image loaded. It was a picture of a small house burning surrounded by snow. Four figures were watching the fire. The four figures were Stefan, Elena, Damon and herself.

The phone fell from Bonnie's fingers.

Bonnie's memories flooded back like a tidal wave. It was the house where she and Damon had killed the Nightmare Man. Damon couldn't have taken the picture; she was there herself. Someone had seen them. Someone knew about it.

Without pause, Bonnie rushed towards her door, hastily unlocking the latch and bolting into the hallway.

It was dark and surprisingly empty. No stragglers were roaming around, and most importantly, Eun-Young was gone.

What was going on?

* * *

"Two tickets for the red-eye to Italy! We could be in Naples sipping on Chianti wine while feasting on Italian _delectables_—preferably brunettes," Damon stormed into Stefan's room with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and two airline tickets in the other.

Damon could admit that this wasn't exactly his most shining moment, but he was coping with loss. Katherine had never loved him; Elena never loved him, the only woman who actually loved him for who he was turned out to be an impertinent little witch named Bonnie Bennett. At first the little firecracker had irritated him, but she quickly became someone he couldn't stop thinking about.

"I'm not going and neither are you," Stefan answered with a long sigh. He was sitting at an antique desk writing in his damned diary again.

Well, what did Damon expect? Stefan had always been a buzz kill—the brooding, little-sullen-do-gooder.

Damon threw himself onto Stefan's bed, deciding to ruin his little brother's life just a little longer, "Is that anyway to treat your _only_ flesh and blood? My dear, dear brother—I am in the stages of _grieving_ and yet you give that little book of yours more attention than you give me." Damon was feigning being upset. He really didn't expect much in the way of support from Stefan. They had an uneasy truce, and that was it at best.

"I still haven't forgiven you," Stefan reminded Damon.

Oh, right...

Damon had kidnapped Elena and almost gotten her killed. Yes, there was that _minor_ detail. Stefan simply didn't understand the way Damon's mind worked. He may have taken Elena, but he made sure she had been well taken care of. Sure, he'd almost gotten Stefan and Bonnie killed as well, but he tried to save them, hell, he even starting dating Bonnie. Didn't these things count for something?

"The advantage of never aging is supposed to be maintaining our youthful ambiance. You're being a bitter old man," Damon lifted the whiskey to take a swig of it. Damn, it was strong. "You need to learn to let go of the past and move on with the future. We're all fine and dandy now."

Stefan was quiet.

Damon insistently lifted the tickets again, "Come on, it'll be _fun_. You _love_ Italy. After Katherine and before Elena, I remember you meeting the most charming prostitute there. She wasn't an exact replica of Katherine like Elena had been, but wasn't she pretty damn close? We could go pay her a visit again—and again."

Stefan finally turned in his chair to face Damon's direction, "You're drunk and incoherent. You should go cancel the tickets."

Damon scoffed, turning his features away from visibility, "Fine, I'll go alone then. You can continue to stay here and make moon eyes at Elena"—he wagged his finger—"whom I believe is very close to leaving you."

"If she did leave me, it'd be because of you," Stefan stated perfectly without any hesitation. "You're not going to Italy. You're going to stay where I can see you. You are my burden."

So that was it. Stefan wasn't sticking around Damon out of any brotherly notion. He stuck around to keep tabs on Damon. Damon had to smile at the hilarity of all of it. When Stefan had saved him, Damon thought that was their unspoken way of closing the hatch, but apparently Stefan still harbored resentment.

"Great, so you're, _what_, my baby-sitter now?" Damon smiled roughly.

"Yes," Stefan's face didn't show much in the way of emotion, "When you act infantile by attacking priests in the middle of the day—I become your babysitter."

Damon waved away the notion dismissively, "Oh, _please_! He lived—sort of—and he doesn't even remember a thing. That _hardly_ counts."

"I'm sure it would have counted to Bonnie. Is it so hard for you to believe that your actions _drive_ people away? If you don't learn to control yourself, I'll be forced to…" Stefan's voice trailed, he had gotten worked up, but didn't complete his sentence.

Damon's smile was gone, he pushed himself up to stare squarely at his brother, "Force you to what?"

Stefan shook his head, turning back to his beloved diary, "Nothing."

Damon didn't need Stefan to finish the sentence; he wasn't daft enough to be unable to figure out the rest. Stefan was going to say he'd be forced to kill Damon—or at least seal Damon away for a very long, long time.

"You need to take your phone with you when you _leave_ my room; you left it here and it's been vibrating all night," Stefan was subtlety telling Damon to get out of his room.

Damon tucked his whiskey bottle under his arm. He had no qualms with leaving Stefan's room, hell; a rock was more entertaining and exciting than Stefan was.

Damon approached the desk Stefan remained quietly writing at, collecting his phone from off it. He didn't care enough to pry, but he could make out a few words Stefan had written down. One line had read, "I wish I knew what to do about Damon".

Jesus, Damon was being treated like he had some serious mental illness he needed to be committed for.

Damon checked the screen of his mobile phone.

_2 Messages._

It couldn't be from Bonnie. He knew that Bonnie was the type to call you directly and scream at you, she'd never be so ambiguous as to leave a short text message.

It was an unknown number. Well, Damon was never one to fear the unknown.

He pressed to open the text.

The first message read: "I know what you tried to do in Alaska."

The second message read: "I am watching her."

At the bottom of the second message there was a picture of Bonnie in a tank top and green underwear, pacing her dorm room with a phone in hand. The photo looked like it was taken from outside of Bonnie's bedroom window.

Bonnie was in danger.

Nothing else mattered anymore.

Damon dropped the whiskey, stuffing the phone deep into the pocket of his jacket. So much for Italy, he'd have to exchange it for a ticket to New York, _immediately_...


	2. Chapter 2: Forgotten

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the show, book, series or the characters. The writing here in is for no profit and simply a fan work. Please continue to support the creators by watching the show and/or reading the literature. Thank you.

NOTE:

"And There Will be Lies" is a direct sequel to "And There Will Be Blood". While reading "And There Will Be Blood" is not required to enjoy the story, I'd recommend it to understand the development that happened between Bonnie and Damon.

Like all my writing, while it is based on TVD's tv show, it has my own original twists and character development that do not follow all the plot lines of the show. I did it this way to make the story flow better. Thanks for reading!

* * *

x

"Welcome to New York city, sir! Going up?" The bellhop asked.

Damon leaned lethargically against the back of the mirrored elevator before tossing the eager bellhop a rather stoic expression, "13th floor."

The bellhop eyed the available buttons anxiously, "Well, sir, yes, just uh—" The young man was fumbling over his words as he tried to explain, "We don't technically have a 13th floor, I'm sure you're referring to the _14__th_ floor."

Damon quirked a smile that only a true deviant could manage, tapping his fingers idly against the cool metal rod behind him, "Only pussies who believe in picking four leaf clovers actually can improve your luck are daft enough to believe that by calling it the 14th floor somehow magically changes it from actually be the 13th floor of the hotel."

The bellhop was flabbergasted.

Damon tossed his gaze away, "Face it, _boy_"—Damon emphasized the word "boy" to show the distinction between himself compared to the stammering bellhop—"You can't outrun what's hazardous, simply by changing it's name. Say for instance, I was intent on hurting you. That'd make me 'dangerous', but as far as you're concerned I'm a 'guest'. A 'guest' is a word that suggests someone you warmly welcome into the same space as yourself—like we are. Now, probably right about now, you're terrified of me. Tell me, does calling me a 'guest' make you feel any safer knowing my real nature?"

The bellhop stayed frightened into silence even as the doors finally opened.

"My point has been proven," Damon stepped off the elevator.

"By the way"—Damon waited until the boy nervously flinched—"don't expect a tip…"

**AND THERE WILL BE LIES**

**Chapter 2: Forgotten**

**Two weeks ago…**

"I think you did the right thing," he spoke with absolute certainty.

Matt and Bonnie had managed to isolate themselves in the corner of an Italian pizza parlor that was well known for its stromboli. It had been a long time since Bonnie really was able to spend time with Matt again. Since Bonnie left Mystic Falls to pursue school in New York, Matt—who had obtained an athletic scholarship to the same university as her—was the only true friend she had locally.

Bonnie toyed with the hot-pink straw protruding out of her cherry coke glass. It was strange for her to actually be eating out with someone again. With Damon, she always ordered delivery. No sense in going to a restaurant when she'd be the only thing on the menu Damon could partake of.

She _definitely_ couldn't keep thinking like that, "Matt, there's so much more to it than I can't even _begin_ to tell you."

"Still—I know that it wasn't an easy decision to make, but it was the right one," Matt paused for a moment, and then after a small mental debate he gingerly reached over the table to place his hand on top of hers. "He wasn't good for you."

Uh oh. This was uneven ground; Bonnie hoped the gesture Matt was using held no deeper meaning than comfort.

Bonnie steadied her voice, treading carefully on her words, "Are you saying this as my ex-boyfriend who could potentially be jealous, or as a friend?"

Matt tipped his head to one side, displaying his characteristic partial smile. He always had a way of looking so wholesome when he'd smile like that.

"Maybe both—" Matt answered.

Bonnie parted her lips to speak, but Matt quickly raised his hand.

"Wait, let me finish"—Matt waited for Bonnie to relax before continuing—"We had our chance, and everything you said was right. As much as I hate to admit it, I could see how much you changed when you returned from your trip—no—how much _he_ had changed you. I knew there was no way to compete with that and even with the two of you being finished, I can't compete with his memory."

Now Bonnie could dawn a full-on smile, "Thank you, Matt, but don't think that I don't appreciate the memories we shared as well. Honestly, if you hadn't come to New York, I don't know how I would have survived this long."

Matt's smile was faltering bit-by-bit. He was obviously mulling over the decision to voice something. Watching Matt sum up the courage was making Bonnie start to feel uneasy.

"What is it?" Bonnie asked softly.

"The trip, you never told me what happened on your trip," Matt turned his eyes towards the table, retracting his fingers away from Bonnie's. "I know you think I don't know about it, but I know you didn't go back to Mystic Falls like you had told me. I know you lied."

Bonnie grimaced.

She had lied to him. What could she tell him? That Elena had been kidnapped by Damon and taken to Alaska? That she and Damon had to fight off an ancient vampire that sought to kill her? Lying seemed like the better choice at the time.

Bonnie took a deep breath before somberly answering, "I was in Alaska—"

Matt shifted in against the black vinyl booth uncomfortably, "Oh."

She already knew he was going to ask about whom she'd been with.

"—with Damon," Bonnie finished plainly.

"_Oh_," Matt repeated with an inflection of complete clarity to the situation.

Bonnie knew Matt wouldn't ask for details, she'd said enough to detour him from asking her about the trip ever again.

"I'm sorry, Matt," Bonnie apologized lamely.

"It's okay," Matt tried to convince himself more than Bonnie of his acceptance. "I guess I couldn't win on all account."

Bonnie sighed, compulsively reaching out to squeeze Matt's arms, "Don't talk like that."

Matt recoiled from her touch.

"No, you just don't get it do you?" Matt was searching Bonnie's eyes for understanding. "Do you realize that there's a lot of things you hide from people? You hide your real feelings; you hide your real thoughts. But that guy—_Damon_—seems to somehow be involved in every secret of yours. I am trying my _hardest_ to be a friend to you, Bonnie, but you have to let in more people than just Damon Salvatore…"

Bonnie tried to search her mind for some remark to say back to Matt, but she simply couldn't.

I mean—after all—he was right, wasn't he? The sad part was, she didn't even intentionally try to let Damon in. He just either knew or effortlessly discovered all of her little secrets. He even knew things about her that Bonnie wasn't even sure she knew of.

A King's of Leon song started playing. It took Bonnie a moment to realize that it was her mobile phone ring tone. Normally, she would and pushed to send the call to voicemail, but she needed an excuse to change the topic. She motioned for Matt to hold his thoughts as she answered the call.

"Hello?" Bonnie spoke with a forced cordial tone.

There was slow breathing on the phone.

Bonnie checked the screen briefly. It was an unknown number.

"_Hello_?" She repeated more sternly this time.

No answer, simply breathing and one other background noise. It sounded faintly like a violin.

"Who is it?" Matt asked, both curious and agitated.

Bonnie mouthed to him that she didn't know.

"Then hang up," Matt advised.

Bonnie snapped her phone closed quickly. There was something unsettling about the call. Bonnie was disturbed, and it showed all over her face.

"It was probably Damon," Matt's tone was accusatory.

Bonnie shook her head quickly, using her entire body with the motion, "No, no. I don't think so. If it were Damon, he'd want me to know it was him." Suddenly the pizza parlor didn't feel safe anymore. She slid from her side of the table. "No—I think we should go."

Matt stood with her, but still offered more assumptions, "Then it was a prank call."

Bonnie dug into her pockets, tossing out whatever change she managed to find on the table as a tip for the waitress. She slid on her coat swiftly and waited for Matt to do the same.

"You're probably right," Bonnie's smile was uneasy.

Matt walked with Bonnie to the entrance, taking the role of a gentleman to pull the glass door open for her, "Since you paid for the stromboli, I'll pay for the cab ride back to campus."

"Thanks, Matt," Bonnie stepped out onto the sidewalk, immediately assaulted by the scent of the city air. It was dark, save for one streetlight that managed to remain undamaged. She instinctively checked over her shoulder towards the darkened alley near by.

Matt observed Bonnie for a moment before finally saying, "Bonnie, you need to sleep. I'm concerned that you're becoming paranoid as a result of your insomnia. You should see a doctor."

Bonnie wanted to reassure Matt that she was fine, but something else was happening. There was a violin playing. It was faint, but it was there.

Bonnie's caution turned to fear as she turned in every which direction to search out the source.

She spotted it quickly.

A homeless man down the block was playing a broken violin in exchange for coins.

Could it be just a coincidence? Or was the unknown call placed outside of the pizza parlor?

* * *

x

Now _this_ was class…

Damon examined his hotel room with a critical eye. The décor looked as though it hadn't been updated since the 50's. There was king-size bed with an old-fashion wooden headboard; it was the perfect noisemaker during naughty activities. To the side there was a wooden desk and chair that looked like they'd taken several beatings over the years. Damon pegged the television set as being the only modern item in the room. The walls were a gaudy floral tangle of gold & brown and there was a _fainting_ couch near the window.

He half expected Audrey Hepburn to waltz through the door and dramatically toss herself against the fainting couch. God, he _hated_ those; they were the interior item he hated most about the 19th century.

Still, Damon had to set aside his disapproval. He didn't come to New York in order to take a holiday. The weight of his mobile phone brushing against his hip was a constant reminder of his reasons.

He had to find Bonnie and fast.

Damon slipped his fingers into his coat pocket, slipping out his sleek, black phone. He searched his contact list, highlighting Bonnie's number. They had been broken up for nearly three weeks with not a single word spoken amongst them. Prior to yesterday, it vaguely irritated him that he couldn't surmount the balls to erase her number from his phone. Now it seemed Damon's inability to let go had turned out to be of benefit.

He placed the call and waiting.

It dialed once, twice…thrice.

"Damon?" Bonnie's voice brought him instant relief.

At least he knew she was safe—for the moment.

"Where are you?" Damon decided to skip the friendly formalities of "hello" and "how are you".

"I'm at school, _why_?" Bonnie asked.

Damon hung up the phone. He had all the information he needed. Damon collected his hotel keycard, placing it in his right pocket. He eyed the tiny courtesy chocolate that lay on his pillow thoughtfully before throwing that in his pocket too.

* * *

x

Bonnie stood in the archway just outside of her now-ending psychology class.

Damon made no sense to Bonnie. First, he was the one to call her and then he hung up on her? Why did it matter where she was? He was all the way in Mystic Falls. Last thing she needed to deal with was her numerous relationship issues with Damon.

She'd spent her entire day trying to find the mysterious girl—Eun-Young—who visited her dorm room last night. No one she'd spoken to seemed to even recall the poor girl.

Bonnie felt riddled with guilt for turning Eun-Young away as a hoax. That girl had been in real danger and she'd simply ignored it.

She couldn't help, but feel the call she received two weeks ago was related to the message she received last night.

_1 Message._

Another text message was arriving. Bonnie's pulse began to throb hollowly against her skin. It was simply too ironic that the very moment she thought about the strange text; she'd be receiving another…

She checked her inbox.

_1 Message from Matt_

Sudden liberation entered as the anxiety completely drained from her body.

She'd forgotten. Bonnie had originally planned to meet Matt for lunch. She'd been so distracted she simply forgot to tell him she couldn't make it.

Bonnie clicked the button to view the message.

It read: _"Bonnie?"_

There was a picture at the bottom of it. As the image slowly began to load, Bonnie's alarm began to rise again.

The image finalized to reveal a picture of Matt gagged & tied to a chair in a dark room with a single beam of light pouring down against him. Tears flooded the rims of Bonnie's eyes. She had to clasp a hand over his lips just to muffle the scream she wanted to release.

Why hadn't she tried to talk to him sooner? He had nothing to do with anything and he was taken because of her. He looked the worst for wear; there dirt against his face and matted hair. These were indicators that wherever Matt was, he'd been there a while.

There was a caption against the bottom of the image.

**How far will you go to save a friend this time? Be at the subway in 20minutes. Speak to no one.**

Bonnie had to pull herself together. She was terrified and she was confused. Instinctively she wanted to call the police. She wanted to call Elena and Stefan to get their aid. Most importantly, she wanted to tell Damon.

She knew whoever she was dealing with, knew where she was, and apparently knew whom she spoke to. She couldn't chance getting more people involved than necessary. Matt's life was not something she'd risk.

Bonnie recomposed, swallowing down the aching in her chest and promptly, she started to run.

She _had_ to make it to the subway…


	3. Chapter 3: Train Ride

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the show, book, series or the characters. The writing here in is for no profit and simply a fan work. Please continue to support the creators by watching the show and/or reading the literature. Thank you.

* * *

x

Damon quickly realized that he should have informed Bonnie to stay put prior to ending their phone conversation.

He found himself leaning on a wall in the hallway of Bonnie's dormitory with his arms neatly folded across his chest. He had intended to slip in fairly discreetly, but the young girls that walked through the hallway were quickly drawing attention to him.

He could hear them whispering to each other about how "hot" he was when they thought they were out of earshot.

If only Bonnie were able to hear such comments, he'd be able to gloat.

Damon ducked his chin down.

Damn, he missed _teasing_ her. Bonnie's angry expression always had the power to arouse him more than anything else had ever managed to.

"She's not here," a quiet, nervous voice was speaking.

Damon's reflexes had him standing upright in a fraction of a second. His eyes regarded a small Asian girl whose face wore distress written across it. Damon could easily deduce what was going on—he'd managed to cast that same expression on dozens of his victims in the past. The girl was obviously being forced to speak with Damon.

Damon stood in a manner that was threatening, "Then, where is she?"

The lithe girl looked fatigued and her eyes were red from crying, "The voice said she's at the subway."

The girl didn't appear to be compelled; she wouldn't be so distraught if that were the case.  
Damon's jaw tightened, "What voice?"

"The voice on the phone," the girl was finally breaking down, the tears flowing in waves as her fingers reached out to grip Damon's jacket, "I don't know anything else. It told me that if I didn't tell you, they'd kill my sister."

Damon didn't know this girl enough to adequately provide any sort of comfort for her. He pushed her from off him gently in the same fashion one would push away an unappetizing plate of food.

He stared at her with sobriety, "Do you stay in this dormitory?"

The girl looked perplexed, but nodded wordlessly.

"Good, lock yourself in your room, and don't leave it," Damon advised. He would seek answers from her later after he retrieved Bonnie.

Damon didn't waste another moment. He ushered himself out of the hallway, storming outside with determined steps of authority.

So, they wanted to play games?

Well, it was time to get the ball set into _his_ court…

**AND THERE WILL BE LIES**

**Chapter 3: Train Ride**

Bonnie didn't know who or _what_ she was supposed to be looking for…

She was standing along side a mass of stoic-faced commuters on the platform to await the train. So far, she didn't see anything that stood out to her. There was a woman to her right desperately trying to quiet her screaming infant. There was a man to her left complaining to a co-worker about the possibility of them being "canned" if they didn't land the contract.

No sign of Matt; no sign of anything…

Bonnie shut her eyes tight. They felt as if they were burning. She followed the rules; she spoke to no one; she made it on time. She was _here_. What did they want from her?

The metro was coming. It announced its presence with lights, vibration and an echo of fanfare. It slowed to a stop in front of Bonnie and the other potential passengers. Bonnie took a step back and to the side to allow people to depart from the cab car.

Once a small group had cleared, she could see something written in marker against one of the seats on the train.

It simply said: **Bonnie, sit here.**

Bonnie nudged her way through a series of elbows to slip onto the train and into the seat. She studied her surroundings swiftly. There had to be some clue here that would lead her to Matt's whereabouts.

Across from her on the other seat, a homeless man was lying fast asleep. He had a bottle of booze concealed in a brown bag. Against the back of his greasy, brown jacket there was a sheet of legal paper that stated: **Go to the last car on the left and sit down.**

Bonnie questioned herself at that moment. This person that had Matt captive was cunning and well planned. They knew everyplace she'd look or sit, before she even thought to take action. They knew she was a witch and had probably prepared for that as well. Could she get Matt out of this alive?

She couldn't afford to think negatively. Not now. She had to try.

She complied with the note, making her way past the standing passengers until she reached the final car. She slid open the door and peered inside.

It was empty.

Was she supposed to just sit and wait? Bonnie scanned the subway car interior for any sign of a note, or markings of any nature.

There was nothing save for the flickering fluorescent lights.

Bonnie wrapped her fingers against a handrail. She wouldn't sit; she'd stand. Somehow, standing made her feel stronger than she actually was. She would watch and she would wait…

There were several stops made. With each stop, more passengers left the train, and fewer passengers boarded. She had felt a degree of safety when the subway cars were full and bustling with random sounds, but now, the only people that remained were passed out drunk.

Just when it started to feel like she'd been waiting for too long, a young man in a navy-blue hoodie began to walk down towards her cab car. Bonnie readied herself as the young man opened the door and joined her.

Bonnie waited for the man to speak, to say anything, but he simply walked past her and sat down.

They were the only two people left now…

The hooded young man bobbed his head to music emitting from the headphone ear buds connected to an iPod. Was he really just a normal passenger?

"If you want to see Matt alive again, you'll do exactly as I say."

Bonnie had been right to keep her guard up. The young man now had a serious expression crossing his face. He reached up to pull down his hood, revealing his face clearly. He looked like an average college student. No special or defining features. It was a face that was easy to forget or simply not take notice of.

Bonnie worked hard to control her voice, even as her body trembled with anger, "Is he OK?"

The young man smiled at her inquiry, "Is he OK? No. Alive? Yes…"

"If you've done anything to Matt I'll—"

"Kill me?" The young man interrupted with.

Bonnie fell silent for a moment; she was hot with rage. "_What_ do you want me to do?" Her tone was icy and unforgiving.

The young man gestured towards her, "There is a knife taped underneath the seat beside you. Reach under and grab it. Take out your hand and drag a diagonal line against your palm. I'll be needing a sample of your blood."

Bonnie remained still, "What's to keep me from using the knife on you?"

"You won't risk endangering Matt's life," he concluded.

Bonnie didn't take her eyes off the man for even a moment. She crouched down, blindly feeling under the seat. Finally her fingers felt the wooden hilt of a knife. She gripped to it securely and yanked it down hard.

The man didn't seem to be bothered at all by the fact she was wielding a knife in her palm. He had been right. Bonnie had no choice, but to play along, at least for now.

Bonnie opened up her other hand, lifting the blade to rest the cool metal against the center of her hand. She braced herself for pain and in one quick stroke she cut her flesh. She bit hard on his lip, trying to stifle the sounds of anguish that instinctively followed the cut.

Drops of her blood were quickly pattering onto the floor.

The man nodded with approval, "Now the other hand."

It hurt too badly, Bonnie wasn't sure if she was capable of cutting herself twice. She closed her hand into a fist to control the bleeding.

Bonnie shook with refusal, "One is enough, and you said you only needed a sample."

"Follow the _rules_, Bonnie," the man warned, "Cut the other hand."

Bonnie shut her eyes. She just had to do it one more time and it'd be over. She had to do it.

Bonnie steadied her wounded hand and placed the knife in its grip. She placed the blade slowly against her other palm, and took a deep breath.

Suddenly, the lights were off.

The subway train was still moving, but it was pitch black. Bonnie dropped the knife, straining her eyes to try and see in the darkness. Glass was shattering somewhere near her, followed by a loud thud. She could hear a scuffle and a deafening scream.

Red-emergency lights turned on to reveal the horrors of what had taken place.

It was Damon…

He stood like a lion over a wounded gazelle, watching the bleeding young man cower at his absolute power. He was strong and terrifying; the sight of him alone shocked Bonnie and made her throat burn.

Damon displayed a irreverent grin across his lips, his eyes were positively glowing with delight, "New rules…"

"_Damon_?" Bonnie's mind was slow to process the reality of her situation and Damon's presence. She felt grateful in one second and quickly remembered that Damon was about to potentially kill Matt's captor.

"Damon!" Bonnie called out desperately, "Damon, please don't kill him. He took Matt, Damon. If you do anything to him, we'll _never_ get Matt back."

Damon completely was ignoring Bonnie's warning. His face was pale and disfigured by the smell of blood. His fangs fully protruded from his mouth. He reached down to grab the young student by the throat, lifting the boy up until his feet dangled in the air.

The young man was sobbing messily as he struggled to pry Damon's vice grip from off his windpipe.

"He didn't take Matt," Damon was utterly disgusted as he discarded the boy onto the floor. "He's nothing more than a human puppet—everything he's said to you was programmed. He was _compelled_."

The young man was out cold—_alive_—but unconscious.

Damon grasped hold of the young man's hoodie, tearing off the hem to hold it out to her hastily, "Bonnie, I have _no_ self-control right now; cover it up."

Bonnie's mouth parted in astonishment, "But how—"

"—How do I know everything?" Damon finished, lifting his sleeve to cover his nose and mouth. "Wisdom comes with age."

Of course, Damon would be trying to be funny in a situation that was completely _not_ funny.

Bonnie took the cloth and began to wrap it around her hand, but she struggled with the thing. It was a difficult task for one hand to manage.

Unexpectedly, Damon's fingers were irritably taking the long strip of fabric from her. He released a noise of annoyance, as if he had to tie someone's shoelaces. He made sure the bandage was tight and stopped the blood from flowing.

"Put pressure on it," Damon ordered.

Bonnie closed her hand tightly. He didn't have to tell her more than once, she was painfully away of the consequences otherwise.

Damon suspended movement, allowing his features to return to normal. His fingers were clasping against her tiny wrist, leading her towards the broken window, "Now, lets get off this train."

Did he really expect them to climb out the _window_?

"Damon"—Bonnie's tone was questioning his sanity—"shouldn't we just wait for the next stop?"

"There _isn't_ a next stop," Damon answered quickly.

"_What_?" Bonnie could already feel the wind velocity from the broken window assaulting her hair. "Trains don't just run without stopping!"

"The only place this train is stopping at is Hell," Damon raised his hands to grasp hold of Bonnie's face, "Look at me and listen—there is _no one_ driving this train."

"There are emergency breaks then, we just have to go and _find_ them," Bonnie tried reasoning with him, her voice almost taking on a demanding tone.

"The breaks and the emergency brakes have been destroyed," Damon spoke with frankness. He lifted her as if she were light as cotton to stand on the seating.

Bonnie was uneasily trying to follow Damon's logic, "Damon, _how_ are you figuring all of this out?"

"How else would you catch a vampire and a witch? It should be obvious by now; Matt is your bait, and you are _my_ bait. They want us both. It's what I would have done— " Damon paused, "It's what I _did_."

"Still— " Bonnie's fingers were clenching on to Damon's jacket, "I can't climb out that window. We're going too fast."

"Hey. _Trust_ me," Damon grabbed hold of Bonnie's waist securely with one arm, using his other hand to grab hold of the windows outline, "I'm faster."

Bonnie braced herself for the worst.

She felt her hair whipping around her and the sheer force of the train's speed fighting against them. Damon pulled the two of them out through the window as easily as passing through an open doorway. His movements and footing even against the screaming train was calculated and swift.

Before she could even be sure of what was happening, they were hanging off the side of the train. Bonnie practically dug her fingers into Damon's flesh, pressing her face deep against his chest.

Damon enclosed his body around her, sheltering her like a football helmet just before a tackling blow. In one hurried moment, Damon flung themselves from off the train…


	4. Chapter 4: Plans

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the show, book, series or the characters. The writing here in is for no profit and simply a fan work. Please continue to support the creators by watching the show and/or reading the literature. Thank you.

* * *

x

**Four Months Ago…**

"Oh come on! Stop beatin' it. Get out there yourself! Stop feedin' off me! Get out of here—I can't breathe! Give me some air!"

It wasn't cries of protest, or sexual squabbles. It was Paul Newman as Cool Hand Luke up on the movie screen. Bonnie had some time off from school and had decided to go visit Elena in Mystic Falls.

Since the air between Damon and Stefan was still thick, Elena decided a double date might be a good way to break tension. She suggested they go to the local movie theatre to watch one of their "Throw-Back" night movies. Elena insisted that the classic films might bring back nostalgia between the brothers.

Instead it led to two vampires, a witch and one human awkwardly sitting in an empty theatre. It seemed like the start to a bad joke.

Bonnie and Elena sat side-by-side with the vampires on either side of them.

Damon leaned towards Bonnie, lifting his fingers to gently brush her hair away from the side of her face, "When you said you wanted me to see a movie with you, I think you failed to mention Bella and Edward there as being part of the deal—" he paused for a beat, "No offense, Elena."

"I don't like it anymore than you do, Damon," Stefan kept his eyes on the screen, but his dissatisfaction was apparent.

Elena touched the side of her temples to attempt to mask her failure. This double date was becoming a double-disaster.

Bonnie sighed heavily, "Look the film is only 126 minutes long. Can the two of you just _attempt_ to get along in silence for that long without fighting?"

"No, I can't, and neither can you," Damon stood promptly after his announcement, pulling Bonnie abruptly to her feet. "Elena, you looked lovely tonight, and I enjoyed your brief, but _tolerable_ company. Tell Stefan I said 'hi'."

Stefan glared daggers at Damon.

Elena opened her mouth to begin to reason with Damon, "Wait—"

"—It's _OK_, Elena," Bonnie had to stop this in it's tracks right now, "Damon and I should go. I'll call you later."

Bonnie didn't say another word until Damon and she managed to step outside into the night air. There was no one in sight. Unlike New York City, Mystic Falls was always dead after eight-o-clock. She'd forgotten just how quiet and desolate the town was.

"Okay Damon, what the _hell_ is wrong with you? You were trying to pick a fight with Stefan during the whole film," Bonnie tightly crossed her arms, turning on her heels to face to boyfriend.

Damon extended his long arm to point at the theatre entrance, "Leave those two idiots to play house. Bonnie, _that_ is not us. We don't double date. We sip wine off the side of the Empire state building. The reason Stefan and I don't get along is because he wants to be normal, and I would rather be locked up in a tomb for a _thousand_ years than be normal."

"You're right that's not us, but you know what _also_ happened? You attacked four security guards to get us that spot on the Empire State building," Bonnie reminded.

Damon brushed the reminder aside, placing vigilant hands against her hips, "So my plan had a hiccup—still—the sex that followed that date was _phenomenal_."

Bonnie couldn't keep herself from smiling. God, there had to be something critically wrong with her to find Damon so irresistible in this moment.

She slid her arms around his neck, resting her cheek gently against him.

"What am I going to do with you?" Bonnie murmured delicately.

"What are you going to do _to_ me sounds so much better," he corrected.

As Damon breathed in, Bonnie could feel her world spinning. Under his embrace everything felt so simple and so perfect. Under his influence life was vivid and exciting.

"Damon, if this—if _we_ don't last, what would you do?"

**AND THERE WILL BE LIES**

**Chapter 4: Plans**

"In local news, you may have noticed a delay in the subway during your commute home from work today due to a 'runaway train'—"

Bonnie's eyelids felt heavy. She could hear a voice, but her vision was blurry.

"—while investigators and officials are still looking into the matter they are chalking the incident up to being faulty components in the electrical control system and will continue to further testing to insure there isn't a repeat performance—"

Her fingers groped at fabric beneath her. She was on something soft, she tried to lift her neck, but it simply hurt too much.

"—Reportedly, only one man was actually on the train and has currently been escorted by paramedics to intensive care—"

The television clicked off.

She could smell coffee mingled with the scent of shampoo.

Her vision cleared enough to merit her the sight of Damon standing over her. He was armed with cappuccino in one hand and a towel in the other to rigorously dry his damp hair with.

This was how it used to be—when she dated Damon. Morning-afters were always filled with cappuccino, warm showers and a healthy dose of playful complaining.

Seeing him again flooded her with nostalgia and déjà vu.

Bonnie had to remind herself that with the good came the bad. Whatever was between her and Damon was over.

"Enjoyed your nap?" Damon was looking self-satisfied.

Bonnie tucked her sore knuckles against the couch, pressing hard against it for leverage. She sat upright, touching the bandage against her hand. They were alive, that was the main thing.

"Where are we?" Bonnie's own voice came out sounding surprisingly fragile.

"My hotel room," Damon crouched down in front of her, placing the cappuccino in her hand, and gently lifting the other to enclose around it, "Hold it tight."

Bonnie complied; lifting the hot beverage up to warm her face, "What happened?"

"You fainted"—Damon's eyebrow ticked up with enjoyment—"I put you on the fainting couch."

Embarrassment ran through Bonnie's body. She had been tired from the constant insomnia, the blood loss and then the jolt of apparently leaping from a moving train. It would have been a miracle if she _hadn't_ fainted.

"How long was I—"

"Four hours," Damon always seemed to know exactly what Bonnie was thinking. "You must have _really_ been exhausted."

Bonnie tried to stand, but the moment she did she became instantly dizzy. She tried to force herself to stay steady. She couldn't let Damon think she was too ill to leave.

Damon gripped Bonnie's arm to keep her balanced, "And where do you think you're going?"

Bonnie sighed; she wouldn't lie. "I have to go find him, Damon. I can't waste anymore time than I already have."

Damon snorted with vague amusement, "Right, because running out there blindly served you _so_ well on the train."

He had a point.

Damon didn't release Bonnie; in fact, it made him only seek to get closer to her. "You do realize that we still don't know who we're up against. Our only clue is that they're more than likely a vampire."

"I can handle vampires," Bonnie spoke firmly.

Damon deliberately pressed up against Bonnie, "Can you now?"

His body had the horrible habit of feeling just perfect against hers. She had to remind herself to keep breathing.

"I handled _you_," Bonnie challenged breathlessly, "I think that makes me an expert."

Damon's arms were coming up against her back; it almost seemed impossible for him to refrain from touching her. Each movement, touch and gestures of his was soaked with throbbing desire and endless mourning, "If you chase after them, then they win. We're what they want, and as long as they don't have us, we _win_. All they have is Matt. Useless, dawdling, dough-eyed little Matt Donovan."

Damon's words brought Bonnie back to reality. This was the reason why they had failed. Damon may have cared for her, but he didn't understand the point in caring for anything or anyone else. If Damon saw a man stabbed on the street, he'd simply stare at them the way a curious child would stare at a dove that'd just broken its neck. He'd do nothing and he'd feel nothing.

It took all of Bonnie's willpower to simply push back from Damon. "He's not useless to me, he's my _friend_, Damon. And lately, he's been a better friend to me than even Elena. He could _die_."

"News flash, _all_ things die," his voice was abruptly callous.

Bonnie stood her ground, "Just because you abandoned humanity doesn't mean that I have."

Damon's jaw went rigid, "I didn't abandon humanity; you _are_ my humanity!"

Bonnie pressed her fingers against her collarbone, "Me? You think that just having me means you're humane? Preserving me, but _harming_ others doesn't classify as having humanity,"

The scowl from Damon's dark brows slowly lifted as his eyes gleamed with an epiphany. His lips turned up a beautiful and daunting smile. Watching contentment quickly replace frustration was almost terrifying in and of itself.

"How about we make a deal, if I can get Matt back in one piece and stop this sociopath—who is _obviously_ desiring to be a poor imitation of me—you have to take me back."

Bonnie's jaw dropped, "Are you seriously using Matt's life as a bargaining chip to get us back together?"

"Of course," Damon nodded.

Bonnie laughed once with sheer disbelief, "You're _unbelievable_."

"At least I'm not lying anymore," Damon leaned over the table, extending his hand out towards Bonnie, "So do we have a deal?"

Bonnie twisted her lips, she was uncertain of the situation, but how could she say no? She reached out to shake Damon's hand, instantly feeling a sting of electricity as their skin made contact.

They were staring at one another in awkward silence. Suddenly, the air in the room had changed. Damon's eyes belied that he felt exactly the same physical affect that she had. Damon was exhilarating and even when her mind tried to deny him; the rest of her desperately wanted more than simply a handshake.

She quickly snatched her fingers away.

"Deal—so, what's _our_ plan?" Bonnie tried to distract him.

Damon slid into the distraction gracefully, "The kid on the train was taken to ICU. We go in and question him."

Bonnie thought about the young man who had forced her to cut herself. Why did he want her blood? Questioning him would be valuable.

Bonnie shook her head, "How are we going to get into a hospital and question him? I'm sure the police are already there waiting for him to wake up so they can interrogate him."

Damon pressed both his palms flat against the table, tilting towards her with aching slowness.

"We go in as staff members, Dr. Bennett…"

* * *

x

"I hate you so much right now—"

Bonnie and Damon were crouched behind a wall at the back of the hospital. It was the biggest hospital Bonnie had ever even seen, and she was stuck near the dumpsters. That wouldn't be the worst part though; she was wearing a bright red, tight-fitting miniskirt and velvet red pumps.

"—remind me again why I had to dress like a slut?" Bonnie hissed.

Damon was staring deeply at Bonnie's neckline, "What? I wasn't listening, what did you say?"

Bonnie pointed at her face, "Eyes up here, Damon. What are we doing here?"

Damon withdrew a few printed pages from his jacket, unfolding them delicately. "I got all the information I could about this hospital. They have an intensive security unit, so we have to play it careful. We first need to distract security, and then we need to make sure to avoid our faces being seen by any of the cameras. We get the doctor's garb, play dress up. Meet with our old friend and compel the information out of him."

"Let me guess, I'm part of the distraction plan," Bonnie gestured to her body.

Damon considered her disguise, "I'm distracted—maybe we should abort and go back up to my hotel room? See what's hiding under that skirt."

"No!" Bonnie's face felt warm with embarrassment, "I'll go distract."

"Remember"—Damon's face took on a humorless expression—"they can _look_, but not _touch_."

Damon was being protective of her. She felt guilty for liking that.

Bonnie smiled tartly, "Trust me, if they touch me I'll place a curse on them so _dreadful_ their unborn children will feel it."

Damon placed a hand on his heart, "Is it wrong that I get aroused when you talk about using your voo-doo powers for evil?"

Bonnie's lips were cute and mischievous, "_Focus_ on your part."

She carried herself like a royal debutant, keeping her red clutch close in hand. She'd never worn anything so revealing in all her life.

She surveyed the area. There was a tall, young security guard smoking a cigarette near one of the exits in the back. He wasn't savoring the moment; he was trying to finish the cigarette hastily. Bonnie guessed the hospital had a firm "no smoking" policy.

"Naughty, naughty. Are you allowed to do that back here?" Bonnie asked as she approached the guard.

Quickly the guard dropped his cigarette, looking over to study Bonnie, "What are you doing back here? You're not supposed to be back here."

"I know that—" Bonnie leaned closer to read his name tag, "—_Stanley_. I ran into some trouble and thought you might be interested in helping me?"

The guard hesitated, he turned to glance at the door; giving Bonnie a clear view of the ring of keys and a keycard dangling off his belt hook.

"I don't know ma'am. I'm not supposed to leave my post."

Bonnie had to lay on the charm more thickly. She lifted a hand to touch the guard's arm, "Even to help a damsel in distress? I'd be _forever_ in your debt."

Stanley stuttered, absolutely confused and nervous, "Ma'am?"

"Yes, Stanley," she smiled wonderfully.

"You're beautiful—" Stanley started.

"Thank you," she threw in.

"—but I'm gay…" he finished.

"Oh—" then it sunk in, "_Oh_…"

Bonnie was going to murder Damon when this was all over…


End file.
